The rise of day, the settling night.
The waning moon, the waxing white.
The rising tide, the expanding beach.
The presence of life, leaving each.
The coming of spring, the invading winter.
The growing branches, the flowers wither.
Young lovers now, turn strangers tomorrow.
The tears of joy, run deep with sorrow.
Balancing atop the head of a snake,
A universe, circling, never to create.
All is done, nothing new,
All is to come, the ending slew,
No sustinance gained, no volume lost.
What now is hot, will cover with frost.
A son is born, a father made,
A man is grown, a body laid.
Holding hands, to complete ouroboros,
Converging